Little Talks
by Unproper Grammar
Summary: In the next twenty days, Gabriella Montez was either going to end up a murderer locked in a cell, or completely, entirely, and pitifully heartbroken.
1. We Might As Well Be Strangers

Hi! It's been a while HSM fandom, hasn't it? I have no real excuses except for I spent all summer being very social and very busy and very lazy when it came to my creative outlets. Of course now that I am back in school I suddenly think I should write all of the time and also read non-school related books because that's productive. Alas.

Let's get some housekeeping out of the way while I have you here. Two things: I'm not 100% sure what I am doing with French Fries. I want to continue it, but I'm not at this point sure if I will. I have discussed it on my Tumblr. Additionally, I am writing pieces for other fandoms (namely Young Justice) but that doesn't mean I don't love HSM any less. I just think how I want to write about it has changed is all.

And that brings us to this. This was inspired by me thinking about change, real life events (my dear coworker has a friend who is the bride from hell), and the song Little Talks by Of Monsters and Men, which I have been listening to almost non-stop since I downloaded their album. I highly recommend it.

I also listened to 17 by Youth Lagoon a lot while reading this, so there is your soundtrack for this chapter. I'll reblog it on my fic Tumblr. The whole fic will be between 5 to 10 chapters; I haven't quite figured it out yet since I decided I want to write this at 10 AM this morning.

Thank you all for your continued support.

* * *

**Little Talks**

* * *

Weddings were really only a good time for the people who were getting married. For everyone else, it was a lot of stress and a lot of money. Why did people want so much when they got married? Why did they suddenly need so much? Should getting married be enough? After all, they were in love; had found someone to spend the rest of their lives with. Ideally. Divorce rates were high.

After Sharpay Evans fourth shower, Gabriella Montez, maid of honor and completely exhausted, was more than a little over it. Why Sharpay had needed to have four showers, Gabriella wasn't sure, but she did know that Sharpay and her fiancée Zeke Baylor, had already been living together for three years and had everything under the sun that you needed to furnish a first home. Now with four showers worth of wedding presents, they had enough to furnish a second and third home, and maybe even a small vacation home or an apartment in the city, perhaps.

Gabriella was crumpling up wrapping paper after the fourth shower when Sharpay approached her, pink high heels clicking almost obnoxiously on the ground. Everything about Sharpay had become obnoxious and insufferable since she had started planning her wedding though, and for that thought Gabriella only felt mildly guilty. She figured that she still loved the woman, even if she often thought she defined Bridezilla, so it balanced it out.

"Gabi," Sharpay said, wrapping her thin arms around her. "Thank you so much for helping out. I know I said the shower Grandmamma threw me would be the last, but I really couldn't say no when the girls at dad's office said they wanted to have a tea party for me. I just couldn't."

Smiling tightly, Gabriella nodded. "Of course. I can definitely see why that would be difficult." She shoved a wad of ivory coloured paper into a trash bag. It was the ugliest paper she had ever seen.

"Have you figured out arrangements for your hair?" Sharpay said, sitting down and inspecting her nails, ignoring the mess of paper and boxes around her. Sharpay didn't believe in manual labour; never had, never would.

"Yes," Gabriella said tightly. Sharpay had informed her a week prior that one of the hairstylists had cancelled for the day of the wedding, and she absolutely did not trust anyone else, so they were only going with two instead of three stylists. That meant that time was being cutting down by an entire third and as a result, Sharpay felt it necessary to trim one of the girls in the bridal party off of the list. That girl had been Gabriella as her hair was 'too thick and too long' and would take 'entirely too long, like, the entire time.'

"Oh?" Sharpay asked, looking up. "What's the plan?"

"I have an appointment for 8:30 in the morning; the salon is opening early for me. It should take about an hour and then I'll come over to get my makeup done."

The blonde's eyes widened. "Oh, no. Oh Gabi, that really won't do. I mean, you'll have to go earlier."

Pausing mid clean up (this time, it was a pale pink paper), Gabriella looked up at her. "What? Why?"

Shaking her head as if it was obvious, Sharpay bit her lip. "I really want you to be there to see me get ready from start to finish. I'm getting ready starting at nine. You'll have to reschedule."

"I _can't_ reschedule," Gabriella said through gritted teeth. "I told you, they are opening _early_for me."

"Oh," Sharpay looked crestfallen, but it lasted only a moment. "_Oh_! Here's an idea! What if you got your hair done the night before and just slept sitting up? That could work!"

Sharpay Evans' wedding was in twenty-two days and Gabriella wasn't entirely sure that the bride would make it to the wedding. There was a very high chance that she'd kill her first.

* * *

She knew he was coming, but she put it to the back of her mind and filed it under '_Things She'd Rather Not Think About_'. He'll be here one day, she thought, but that day is not today. She dealt with it the same way she dealt with summer break ending; the inward panic she would feel as a kid as the days slipped through her fingers like grains of sand.

The day would come but it was not today and therefore she could deal with it the idea. She could handle it.

Only as she stepped out of the Evans estate, onto the front porch to escape from the maddening discussion inside (Sharpay was suddenly unsatisfied with the linens for the reception) and get a little fresh air, she was greeted with the sight of Troy Bolton. He was dressed in a crisp blue button down and black trousers, his tie slack around his neck and a cigarette dangling from his lips. His hair was longer than she imagined it, but still shorter than when they were together, and his face was still all hard angles and blue eyes and long lashes. He was leaning forward, his elbows resting on the railings around the porch deck and glanced over his shoulder upon hearing the front door close shut.

He was early. He wasn't supposed to be here. She wasn't prepared for this.

"Gabriella," he said softly, turning around and taking the cigarette between his fingers. "It's been a while. You're looking good."

She gaped, her heart jumping into her mouth and lodging itself in her throat. Troy Bolton had the undeniable ability to render her absolutely speechless. Always had, probably always would. She hated it. Folding her arms, she shook off the chills that were running up her spine upon seeing him and scowled.

"You were supposed to arrive at the end of the week."

"Ah," Troy said, tapping the ash off his cigarette. "I was, but as it turns out Zeke is feeling a little overwhelmed so I took a few extra vacation days and decided to come back to good ol' Albuquerque to help Zeke with his dance moves," he brought the cigarette to his mouth and took a long drag. "I was always more coordinated than him."

Heart pounding, she nodded. "I see." She turned to go back inside.

"Really now, Brie?" she stopped at the sound of his old pet name for her. It made her stomach curl. "That's all you're going to say to me after what, three years?"

"Yes," she said curtly. "After three years of no contact, that is all I'm going to say. I mean, we're doing so well at the not speaking thing, why quit now?"

He chuckled. "You never were a quitter."

"No," she said, whirling around to face him. She could feel her blood pumping in her veins, adrenaline rushing to the surface. "I wasn't. I'm not." She glanced over at the cigarette still perched between his lips. "Guess we can say the same about you. Give up trying to cut the cancer stick?"

He blew a stream of smoke from his mouth and she practically rolled her eyes, disgusted. "I tried," he said, smiling at her lopsidedly. "But we both know I've never had the best willpower."

Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, Gabriella nodded, pursing her lips. "You're going to end up dead."

He shrugged. "Live fast and die young, YOLO, and all that shit, I guess."

"You're not that young."

"Thirty is not old, Gabriella."

"You tell yourself that to keep you warm at night?"

"Don't need to. I've got other options. You're no spring chicken either, Brie. Twenty-eight? You might as well be eighty."

"Given that I probably have about ninety percent fewer STDs than your bedmates, I'd like to think I'm doing a little better than what you consider to be the average twenty-eight year old, Troy. Glad to see you're still drowning yourself in your work and your women, by the way."

"Oh yeah? Cause you know so much about my life right now?" he scoffed. "You're a lab technician in Boston, I'm a senior vice president in NYC. Our paths don't exactly cross."

"Don't be so sure, Troy, the grapevine grows wherever, and the grapevine is full of stories about you."

"Yeah, well, a guy's gotta do something to get through the days. How I spend them is no longer any of your business. "

Gabriella felt her blood boil even further. "I'm a research analyst thank you very much, and I do some very important work. I work in life sciences. I graduated from Harvard, in case you seem to have forgotten."

"I hadn't."

"Well, you're pretty good at forgetting most things—"

"Always have to get the last word in, huh, Brie?" Troy cut her off. "Guess some things never change. Still have that heart shaped birthmark high on your inner thigh? The right one?"

A silence passed over them and she suddenly felt like she was drowning, like she needed to get out. It was easy to forget when they were sparring, easy to forget that she had once loved him and that she had had him in every intimate way a person could have another. Forget that he had had her in the same way. She bit her lip to keep from crying.

He noticed her frame stiffen immediately. He was always able to read her. He was right. Some things did never change.

"Gabi—"

"Troy, don't—"

"I missed you," he said, his voice even and steady and she knew that he meant it. Troy Bolton didn't use his words lightly. He said what he meant when he meant it. He was a terrible liar and in her opinion that made him a great one. "I've really, really missed you."

Shaking her head, she looked at him, really looked at him. Was he at all the same? Was there still a part of him that was the man she loved? Or did that all exist in yester year? Did the boy she fell so madly in love with when she was nineteen years old still exist, was he still a part of _this_Troy Bolton? The one who wore suits and who was the Senior VP at a sports marketing agency, did he have the qualities and characteristics that made her love him?

Somehow she doubted it. Yet there was a part of her that doubted that, too. She wasn't sure of anything when it came to him.

She was sure, that his words however, were not enough.

"Too little too late, Troy," she said simply, turning to go back inside. "Too little too late."

There was a pause until she heard him call her name. "Just so you know," he said, weighing his words carefully. She wasn't exaggerating when she claimed he used his words well. "Or in case you've forgotten, I'm the Best Man. And you're the Maid of Honor. I may not have had to do much so far, but I will have a lot to do now, and best of all, you and I will be doing it all together. So whatever escape plan you have that you're typing up in your brain, you can toss it. It won't work. You're still a runner, Brie, and you're not going to make it across the finish line this time. The race isn't over and I'm still in it, and I know you are too. So try to avoid me all you want, but it's not worth it. I didn't come back just to help Zeke learn to cha-cha, you know."

There he went again, babbling in all of his unexpected, poetic glory. God, he was just as insufferable as Sharpay sometimes. So full of romantic, flowery expectations. Opening the front door, she stepped inside before responding. "Don't speak in riddles, Troy. It's entirely too childish."

She heard him chuckle again, and the faint flickering of a lighter as he lit another cigarette. The chain smoking was new. "See you at the altar, Gabriella!" he shot after her.

Slamming the door closed behind her, she leaned against it and slid down. The smell of smoke slid underneath the cracks of the door and she could practically feel his presence on the other side. He was here. He was here too early. He was speaking in metaphors.

The wedding was in twenty-one days and Gabriella had never hated it more.

* * *

She lay in bed that night, up until the early morning hours, feeling like she was suffocating. If she just rolled over one extra inch, she was certain her pillow would smother her. The walls of her bedroom suddenly felt too close together and she was momentarily afraid they would close in on her. She hadn't felt this way in years, panicked and anxious and entirely afraid. On nights like this, back when they were younger and together, Troy would wrap her in his arms and count to ten before making lists with her. He'd ask her to plan a week of groceries, a month's worth of dates, and the panic attack would pass and she could sleep without trouble.

That had been years ago and she had since found that being alone and not in love had given her less anxiety. Being in love there was always the background noise; the chatter that said it might end at any moment. She had been single since Troy and found that she worried overall less. You had little to worry about when you had little at stake, especially when the stakes were as high as your heart.

The wedding was in twenty days and it was shaping up to be what seemed like the worst time in Gabriella's life. Sharpay had been replaced by a robot from the planet Bridezilla Bitches and Troy Bolton had wandered back into her life three years after they packed up their boxes from their shared apartment and went their separate ways. He was back with his tousled hair and his blue eyes and his successful career and his cigarette smoke. He was back and it was entirely too much to deal with.

Rolling over, Gabriella took three deep breaths before throwing the covers off her. She swung her legs over the bed and slid her hands under her thighs, breathing slowly, her eyes closed. Then she flicked the lamp on her night table on, stood up and walked over to her desk, and opened her laptop lid.

The blue light from the screen illuminated the room and she squinted from the sudden brightness. A lump forming in her throat, she logged onto her email and went to a folder.

"**Do Not Open Ever**," she had titled it in a moment of absolute wit and determination. She had made the password a complex series of words and numbers, hoping that over the years she'd forget it, but she didn't. She typed it in with ease, the birth date of their pet goldfish, followed by his mother's middle name, followed by the last four digits of her high school cell phone number followed by a random series of numbers. She remembered them all. If you cared about something, she thought, you'd retain it. You'd remember it.

Still, as she opened the emails, she wished she hadn't. She hadn't read them at least two years, if not slightly longer, having decided that that part of her life was over and it was time to move on.

And she had been doing a good job; some would even say great. But it was still Troy she thought about when her mind wandered to the places she didn't know still occupied her mind. Still Troy she conjured up when she glanced into a crowded, busy street. Still Troy she'd have strange dreams about. Still Troy she missed.

He had sent the emails steadily every day for about two months. In the last, he said expressed that he knew it was over. The emails stopped.

She had read them so many times she knew them by heart. Opening the first one, she took a deep breath, and began mouthing the words, taking in their familiar meaning, and wishing her heart didn't hurt so much.

"_I miss the way your legs would tangle with mine and your nails would scratch my calves. I loved the feel of you against me, but hated the scrapes. It drove me crazy. But today I miss it."_

Squeezing her eyes shut, she swallowed, letting his words wash over her. It felt exactly the same as it had when she first read them. It hurt in the exact same ways, in the exact same places. Had she moved on at all or had she just been fooling herself?

In the next twenty days, she was either going to end up a murderer locked in a cell, or completely, entirely, and pitifully heartbroken.


	2. I Don't Wanna Be a Bride

**Little Talks**

* * *

Gabriella had always known Sharpay would get married before she did. She knew it from the moment she had met her; it had been at a slumber party in her junior year of high school. They were playing truth or dare and someone had asked Sharpay who she dreamt about marrying. She had proclaimed Troy Bolton so enthusiastically you could practically hear the exclamation points in her voice. She then went into detail about the ceremony, the reception, and the honeymoon. Gabriella wished she hadn't gone into the amount of detail that she had when it came to the honeymoon part.

At that time, Gabriella never thought about marriage. She never thought about getting married or being in love, simply because she wasn't in love and there were far too many years of her life left to live before she even thought about spending it with one particular person. Of course, she hadn't met Troy at that point, so maybe if she had, she would have been further inclined and motivated to think about marriage beyond the, 'one day, when I have my career established, I'll get married' part of her life plan.

However, given everything that had transpired and everything that had happened, she somehow doubted it; doubted that even with Troy in her life at an earlier age, she probably wouldn't have felt any differently about marriage. She was a child of divorce so she felt weird about marriage in general, never quite sure whether she was for or against it. Even now at twenty-eight, she still wasn't one hundred percent sure of her feelings.

So, no, meeting Troy probably wouldn't have made any difference.

Sharpay still continued to think about getting married. She stopped thinking about Troy after graduation and she met Zeke Baylor. It was just as well, because shortly after, Gabriella met Troy at a party thrown by Zeke. She, Taylor, and Sharpay (along with Sharpay's twin brother, Ryan) had all gone to a private prep school on the other side of Albuquerque and dispersed after college, but Thanksgiving weekend when they had all been home had taken place in Zeke's basement. He and Sharpay had met at the University of Southern California and had fallen in love. It sounded dramatic to Gabriella at the time, but given that they were now walking down the aisle, she supposed they really had.

By Christmas of their first year of university, Zeke and Sharpay were officially a couple. As a result, despite Troy and Gabi getting together six months later, it was always implied, understood, and known that Sharpay and Zeke would be the first to marry, regardless of the fact that the two couples had been together relatively the same time. That was until Troy and Gabriella broke up six years into their relationship and Zeke and Sharpay kept going.

Sharpay glowed in her role as the first to marry among the group. "After all," she would say with a grin, "I am the first of our friends to be getting married." Sharpay's wedding was always going to be a spectacle; the girl herself was a walking one. But with the added title of 'First Wedding Among This Group of Friends' it was a big deal. They had stood for other friends and family; this was actually Gabriella's fifth wedding as she had been a bridesmaid in ceremonies for her college friends and roommates. But it was the first time that they were getting together as a group of friends to celebrate the union of two of their own.

It was funny. They used to be a group of 'couple friends'. Childhood friends as well, but the group was comprised of couples. Sharpay and Zeke. Troy and Gabriella. Taylor and Chad. Jason and Kelsi. But one by one, they broke off. Jason and Kelsi being the first, Taylor and Chad the second, and Troy and Gabriella the last.

So it made sense that in the end that Sharpay and Zeke were the first of their group to get married.

They were the only ones still together.

* * *

"I just think maybe the cupcake table was a bad idea," Sharpay said, running her hands through her long, curly blonde hair. She was twisted up into a chair, her iPad open in front of her as she flipped through pages on Pinterest. "I mean, it's a little much. Maybe I should have just gone with a pastry table instead."

Gabriella resisted the urge not to stab her friend with the pen that she was currently holding. This was the third time today they were having this conversation. "Sharpay, it's already booked. We can't really cancel without losing a lot of money, and with only a little over two weeks before the wedding, finding a place to cater pastries for a wedding of nearly three hundred and fifty people isn't very likely. Plus we have to take into consideration that you'd have to squeeze a tasting in as well."

"Hmm," Sharpay deliberated. "I just think this pastry table looks so cute!" she held up her iPad to display an image of a brightly coloured set up. "Cute, right?"

"It _is_cute, Shar," Gabriella gritted her teeth. Her head was pounding. "But you have a dozen different flavours of cupcakes, and gluten and dairy free versions. That really allows everyone at the wedding to get a taste. The pastries are limiting and you also have the macaron plates at the actual tables. I think you're good."

"But Gab, I just, I don't know. I think it might be a good idea to cancel it." She drew her bottom lip into her mouth and furrowed her brow. "I think it'd be a good idea, yes. You'll call them and cancel right?"

The look of annoyance must have been apparent on her face. It must have; Gabriella wasn't that good of an actress. Sharpay, however, was and she was very good at pretending situations weren't happening. At times like this it was like she was living in an alternate reality. A dreamland where no demand was too impossible to fulfill.

But Sharpay was very rich and also very spoiled, so perhaps it was more just that she actually lived in a dreamland.

"Yes, I'll cancel," Gabriella said stiffly. "But I really think you need to remember that a lot of your guests have allergies and a lot of them are girls who are doing the gluten free thing. You don't want to have people miss out on desserts and such at your wedding because they can't eat something because of their diet, do you? Isn't that a little unfair?"

Gabriella may not have been an actress but she studied law briefly as part of her double major. She had learned to be very persuasive.

Sharpay nodded, finally putting the iPad down. "You're right, you're right. We won't cancel it."

"Good!"

"But I think a pastry table _would_be great, so if you could be a dear and maybe find one? I'm sure with the right number we can get someone to do it. And schedule the tasting for maybe tomorrow? If not Wednesday," she turned back to her iPad, pulling up images of flowers. "Just flash them my Black card and tell them we'll need roughly a thousand pastries. That's not a lot right? I want a variety. Now. Let's talk flowers."

* * *

"She's fucking driving me crazy, Taylor," Gabriella said over the phone an hour later. She was standing on the balcony that overlooked the backyard of Sharpay and Zeke's estate. You couldn't call their home a house simply because it wasn't; it was far too large and had far too much land and it's own garden, pool, tennis, and basketball courts. It was an _estate_. "When are you going to get to town?"

"Not until the weekend of the bachelorette party, Ella," Taylor McKessie said over the line. "I go to trial two days before. I'm coming just for the festivities and leaving right after."

Gabriella heard the familiar clicking of the keyboard in the background. While she had taken law merely as something to keep the other side of her brain going, Taylor had taken it because she loved it. She was one of the highest paid attorneys in the state of Pennsylvania.

"I just wish you'd get here already," Gabriella said, leaning against the balcony and staring out into the backyard. Zeke, Troy, and Chad were playing a game of pick up basketball. She tried to avert her eyes when she saw Troy was shirtless.

It was easier said than done.

"I wish I could, too."

"I just…I kind of need my best friend right now," Gabriella admitted. "This wedding planning is really hard and I still have work to do even though my next project is independent and I'm tired and there's, well, there's _you know_."

"How are you doing with that, by the way?"

"Work? It's—"

"Gabriella, you know what I mean. How are you doing seeing Troy again?"

Gabriella paused. There was no way she could lie about it, but especially not to Taylor. "Not very well. It feels like I'm getting punched in the gut every time I look at him." She glanced over at the basketball court. There was that jabbing feeling.

"I'm sorry, Ella," Taylor said, and Gabriella felt her throat close up. "I really am."

"Aren't you worried about seeing Chad again?" Gabriella asked, hoping desperately that she'd have someone to commiserate with. "It's been about a year or so, yes?"

"It has. I'm not worried about seeing him, though," Taylor said, rustling papers on her end. "We broke up a long time ago."

"So did Troy and I, though."

"Chad and I's break up was amicable. Yours and Troy wasn't, exactly. Besides, Chad and I were never you and Troy."

Gabriella watched as Troy dribbled the ball down the court. He seemed to be laughing as he did so, Chad and Zeke at his heels. "But you were together three years. You loved him."

"I did, but not in the way that you and Troy loved each other. "

"You still shared so much. You went through so much. Isn't it at all weird? Doesn't it make you feel anything?"

"No," Taylor said, her voice honest. "No, because I don't feel anything. Chad and I were meant to break up. We had our time and it's over and that's that. You and Troy, however, are a different story."

"What do you mean?" Gabriella watched as Troy threw the ball at the hoop.

"You and Troy weren't supposed to end. And you know that."

From the balcony, Gabriella heard the boys jeer as the ball bounced off the hoop. What a near miss. So close and yet so far.


	3. I'm Not Yours Anymore

**Little Talks**

* * *

"Why does your watch have two faces?" Jill, one of the bridesmaids asked. She was a thin, pale brunette ballerina who Sharpay had met during their first year at Julliard. Gabriella looked up from the list she was making (ensuring that whoever ordered salmon would indeed get salmon and whoever ordered steak would indeed get steak) and glanced over at her watch. Her simple watch; with the two faces and the thin brown band. The one that held more memories than she wanted to share.

Still, she swallowed and answered. "My ex-boyfriend and I were long distance through grad school, on different coasts, on different time-zones. So he bought me this so I could change the time to wherever he was on one face and wherever I was on the other."

"Aw," Jill cooed, "that is so sweet. Terribly romantic!"

Gabriella nodded, doodling idly in the margin of her notebook as she remembered what it had felt like to receive this watch. To deal with the loneliness and longing that came with being so far away from the person you loved the most. Some days she felt she couldn't bear it. Some days she couldn't.

"Yeah," Gabriella responded softly, looking down at her watch again with it's worn band. "It is."

"But you aren't together anymore, right?" Jill asked and Gabriella nodded. "Then why do you still wear it? I can never wear any of the stuff any of my old boyfriends gave me. They hold too many memories."

Gabriella shrugged. "We broke up a long time ago. It doesn't mean much anymore."

Jill sighed. "Still. As much as you move on, you still remember and that's always gotta feel a little weird. Don't you think?"

"Not all memories are bad memories."

"No," Jill said thoughtfully. "I guess not. Does your new boyfriend think it's weird? Does he mind?"

"He doesn't exist, so not really," Gabriella quipped. "I am single."

"Oh," Jill said again, blushing. "I just assumed. I mean. I'm sorry, you're just kind of gorgeous and successful. It's just surprising is all, I mean—"

Gabriella laughed. "Really, you don't have to explain. I'm single by choice, not by default. It's not a big deal."

Still, Jill looked embarrassed, and quickly exited the room awkwardly, making an excuse to check on the favors that would be given away at the reception, leaving Gabriella to her thoughts.

She remembered once when she briefly dated a man name Daniel. Daniel was a lawyer and he was very kind, dark haired with dark eyes and a seemingly ever present scruff on his cheeks and jawline. She liked him very much but he wasn't Troy, so naturally he had fallen short. But she had hoped to look past that and make it work, and about a month into their relationship, he leaned over and reached across to her night-table, picking up the watch she had removed before she took off the rest of her clothing.

"Why does it have two faces?" he had asked, and when she answered honestly, he got quiet.

He told her the next day that he liked her plenty, but he thought that maybe they should stop seeing each other. That maybe her heart wasn't in it. She had agreed and the last she had heard of him, he was engaged.

Not all memories were bad, but even the good ones became negative when you started to live in them. Sometimes, when Gabriella wrapped the watch around her wrist, she wondered if she had really moved on at all, or if she was still living a past life, biding time and waiting for things to get back to normal.

* * *

In Gabriella's experience during her seventeen odd years of friendship with Sharpay, all bad ideas led back to the blonde. It was Sharpay's idea to steal Ryan's Corvette and take it for a joyride, resulting in a car crash that involved said Corvette wrapped around a telephone pole and a broken arm. It had been Sharpay's idea to smoke pot in her garage as an experiment, setting off the smoke detectors and letting the whole Evans family (as well as the entire block) find out what they were up to. And it had been Sharpay's idea to force all of the bridesmaids into wedding dresses.

They were at the bridal boutique for the final fitting, to make sure that all hems were hemmed and all inches taken out or taken in. Things had gone surprisingly well (of course, a couple of the dresses seemed to be the exact wrong sizes, but given all of the ups and downs that were adding up to be Sharpay and Zeke's nuptials, things really did go well) and the girls were excitedly chatting and having a good time when Sharpay suggested that they all try on a dress.

"Oh come on, everyone!" she had said, "Try one on! It's so fun! You don't know what it feels like to feel like a princess until you've tried on a wedding dress!"

Gabriella shook her head. "Sharpay, you've really got to get back. You have an appointment with the entertainment to go over a final set list in an hour and your phone is at home."

"Text Zeke for me and tell him to bring it, Gabi, babe? It would be a huge help!"

Gabriella rolled her eyes and pulled out her phone, doing just that. "Fine," she said, "But I'm not trying on a dress."

"Sure you aren't," Sharpay said with a twinkle in her eye. "You say that now."

One by one, the girls slid into extravagant wedding dresses. Jill into a classic, cap sleeve vintage dress with a plunging back. Kelsi into a tiered chiffon ballgown that practically ate her up. Natasha into a frilly number dripping with lace and jewels. Bianca (or Bee, as she insisted they call her) into a dress that had butterfly wings in the back. They laughed uproariously, snapping photos and posing like supermodels. Even Gabriella, despite her reservations, had to crack a smile.

But she was still determined not to get into a dress.

"Gabriella, come on!" Bee said, "just try this one on!" She held up a dress and waved it in her face. "This one screams you!"

"No," Gabriella said, shaking her head. "This is silly and I really, really don't want to."

"You have to!" Jill insisted. "We all did! It's just for fun, it's not serious!"

Gabriella bit her lip. "You guys—"

"Gabriella, please," Sharpay said, placing her hands on her hip. "It's my wedding and I really want you to do this one thing for me. We can put all of the photos into the slideshow that we're going to play at the beginning of the reception. Please?"

"Fine," Gabriella slammed her phone down. "I'll put it on. Zeke is around the corner with your phone by the way."

Sharpay clapped her hands in glee and did a little dance. "Excellent! Now put it on!"

Gabriella went into the fitting room and with shaking hands, pulled the taffeta gown up her body. It had a sweetheart neckline and hugged her around her waist and hips, extending down into an elegant mermaids tail. Staring at herself in the mirror, she felt herself shiver.

It was like looking at a ghost.

"Okay," she said, pulling back the curtain and stepping outside, onto the circular platform. "Let's get this over with."

Jill gasped when she walked out, and the chatter among the girls stopped, all pairs of eyes landing on Gabriella. She stood her, folding her arms self consciously. "What?"

"Oh my god," Natasha briefed, bringing her hand up to her mouth. "You are a vision!"

"Gabriella!" Sharpay squealed, jumping up and down. "You look gorgeous!"

"Insanely gorgeous!" Kelsi exclaimed.

"Gabriella, when you get married, you have to wear this dress!" Jill said, snapping a picture. "It was literally made for you!"

"Your body is banging in that, Gabi," Sharpay said. "I knew you should try it on. You look so, so good! Look at yourself!"

She spun Gabriella around to look at herself in the mirror and she couldn't help but feel sick. She felt like she was going to pass out at the sight of her in the white dress.

"Take a few more pictures of the back, Jill," Sharpay instructed, "that way when Miss Thang here walks down the aisle, we can remember what this one looked like and make sure she gets one just like it! If not this very dress!"

"Hello ladies," a voice said, and Gabriella felt like ice cold water had washed over her.

Sharpay turned away from the mirror and Gabriella. "Troy? What are you doing here?"

"Bringing your phone," Gabriella heard him say. She wouldn't turn around to face him. "Zeke didn't want to come in case you were wearing your dress. Bad luck and….all. Um, what are you guys doing?"

Gabriella made an impulsive move to run into the fitting room but Sharpay grabbed her arm. "The girls were just trying on wedding dresses for fun! But oh my god, you have to see Gabi in this dress. It is to die for. Gabi, show Troy."

"Sharpay—"

"I mean, isn't she just stunning?" Sharpay turned around and Gabriella's eyes met Troy's. He looked like he had been punched in the stomach. "Gorgeous right?"

The room was silent then and thick with tension as Troy gazed at Gabriella. She saw him swallow thickly before running a hand through his hair and looking away.

"Troy?" Sharpay asked, furrowing her brow. "Are you okay?"

Troy nodded quickly, clearing his throat. "Yeah. I gotta go. Zeke's waiting for me in the car. You girls have fun."

With that he made a quick exit and the girls turned to look at Gabriella. She felt like her knees were going to give out.

"Gabriella, I…" Sharpay trailed off. "What was that about?"

Gabriella shook her head, her throat suddenly feeling tight. "Nothing. Um."

And like a dam breaking, she brought her hands up to her face and burst into tears, her shoulders trembling as the four women gathered around her and embraced her. She felt the weight of the past few days and weeks and months collapse on her. Troy's face as he had looked at her in the dress felt like a knife through the heart. It was too much.

It was too much.


End file.
